Treachery Queen (The Callistra Chronicles #1)

THIRTY-TWO

Chapter Thirty-Two

"Her Majesty is ready to see you."

Pasiphae was shaken awake, her eyes snapping open. Cursing under her breath, she remained limp as the guards hauled her back to her feet.

She hadn't even heard the door open. In fact, she wasn't even certain when she closed her eyes. Exhaustion dragged down her every move. If she had been a bit more vigilant, maybe she could have made a run when the guards had first entered.

"Lost cause," Arthur said, resuming his iron grip on her arm. For a disoriented moment, Pasiphae thought that he had read her mind, but he had simply seen her intentions in the way she glared daggers at the door.

"We have ten guards stationed at each side," he told her. "There's no running."

How long had she slept for? Pasiphae wondered as they dragged her through the labyrinth of hallways again. She pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth. There was a certain fuzziness, so she must have been passed out soundly for more than a few hours.
"This way, please."

Pasiphae looked up with a start. The sore muscles at her neck groaned in protest. "This is the recreation room."

Arthur's lip curled. "Indeed it is. Would you prefer another room?"

"Why, you—"

Pasiphae stumbled accidentally and stomped on his foot.

"My apologies," she simpered, and in that move alone, all ten guards had pointed their weapons at her.

Pasiphae refused to wave the white flag. She stared them down, wrinkling her nose at the spark of electricity that darted close enough to skim her ear.

"Stand down," Arthur finally commanded.

Hesitantly, the guards did so.

Arthur glared down at Pasiphae and hurried her into the room, dragging her by the hair.

"How come you're in charge?" she spat, wincing at the pressure. "Only in the spotlight when Warin's not here?"

Arthur dumped her on the couch unceremoniously. He stood to attention, stamping his heel and not bothering to respond to the taunting.

She was lost for stalling tactics. Pasiphae crossed her arms, eyeing the details that she could perceive in the low lighting. The atmosphere in the room was different to what she had expected.

She was not the only one in here.

It almost appeared like a standard recreation was underway. No—it appeared exactly like a standard recreation was underway. Nothing was different to the one she had attended with Seth. Dozens of nobles and their humans socialised with drinks in their hands, and many others were seated on the nearby couches. Through the large windows, the night still roared on, brightening the room with the glow of the distant urban centre.

The forest still twinkled from the dainty bulbs, strung tree to tree.

The doors opened then, and Morgana swirled in, having changed her dress into one of the most gauzy, green colour. Conversation halted, but she smiled and waved her arms for the nobles to resume what they were doing. They pretended not to notice her as she swooped into the sitting area and took a place on the couch next to Pasiphae—as near as her giant wingspan would allow.

The very sight of her made Pasiphae want to vomit, never mind her startling close presence.

She tried to leap up immediately.

"Sit down," the Unseelie Queen hissed, though it was a redundant effort. The guards behind Pasiphae were quicker than riptides, and had already pushed down on her shoulder to prevent any movement.